


Hey-Ho, Let's Go

by Agent-Lizzo (NotEvenRossi)



Series: Rare Ship bingo [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Major Character Death, Caring Sam Winchester, Castiel doesn't expect it to make him emotional, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel is grieving, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e07 Last Call, They read pet sematary, dadstiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenRossi/pseuds/Agent-Lizzo
Summary: He found that Sam was right, focusing on the rise and fall of Sam’s chest against his back did help. The up and down was grounding, a reminder that Sam was alive. That he hadn’t lost everyone. That he was still on earth, and this wasn’t all just a nightmare he was having while alone in the empty.“I miss him”****The book Pet Sematary by Stephen King hits too close to home for Castiel.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel/Sam Winchester
Series: Rare Ship bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704943
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Hey-Ho, Let's Go

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this idea rolling around in my brain for a long while! I would recommend knowing the basic premise of the book Pet Sematary by Stephen King before reading, but it's not necessary! 
> 
> This will be used as the hurt/comfort square on my rare ship bingo!
> 
> I'm just trying to clear out some work in progresses, so this is posted with minimal editing

Getting in bed with Sam after long days was second nature to Castiel. Even after spending so much time away from the bunker, and all that had changed following Mary’s death. He had no question that the two of them would just fall back into their natural routine. Being back in the bunker in general was still difficult for Castiel. Him and Dean were both pointedly avoiding one another. Without Jack there it was as if the bunker was missing something special; it no longer felt like a home. 

The only thing that felt right was getting into bed with Sam, and listening to his words as he started reading through the book that him and Sam had started months ago. Sam had informed Castiel when they had originally started Pet Sematary that it wasn’t ordinarily the type of book that he would read. Sam faced enough horrors in his everyday life to be interested in the horrors of the dark corners of Stephen King’s mind, but he made an exception for Pet Sematary. He had read it the first time when he was a child, and it had always stuck with him. 

Sitting there Sam’s soft words seemed to get louder in the seraph’s head. Was he yelling? Why did it sound like Sam was yelling? A deep breath, tightly closing his eyes for a moment. Sam decidedly was not yelling. He continued unaware of the panic and grief that seemed to be permeating every millimeter of Castiel in a way he couldn’t explain:

“Louis wrestled the body of the coffin. At last he sat on the verge of the grave with the body in his lap-”

Castiel could feel Jack’s limp, dead body over his shoulder again. The press of familiar skin that hadn’t even gone cold, but lifeless all the same.

Still unaware Sam continued reading:

“his feet dangling in the hole, his face a horrible livid color, his eyes black holes, his mouth drawn down in a trembling bow of terror and pity”

The smell of burnt skin was heavy in the air. Jack’s last screams as Chuck— the man Castiel had spent eon’s devoted to. The man Jack had once expressed interest in due to being his grandfather— murdered Jack. He could see nothing but the burnt out husk of what used to be Jack. Smoke still billowed from his eyes, and pure darkness where Castiel had always seen the light. Somehow Castiel thinking about how lively Jack had always been, his smile, his laugh, the way that his eyes seemed to glow without the pulse of his grace when he was particularly excited, or interested in something, hurt worse in this moment than before. 

“‘Gage’ he said and began to rock the boy in his arms. Gage’s hair lay against Louis’s wrist, as lifeless as wire. ‘Gage, it will be all right, this will end, this is just the night, please, Gage, I love you, Daddy loves you.’ Louis rocked his son.” 

“Stop” Castiel can’t remember his voice holding a tremor like this even after he watched his son die with his own two eyes. He can’t remember feeling this shaken up over something so menial; he had watched people die, killed beings without so much as a flinch. He had been trained to kill Dean without reacting. How was it possible that words written by a mortal being could cause this tremor throughout him. 

Sam seemed to catch onto what was happening then, setting the book down, and watching Castiel carefully. Castiel could feel the worry in his eyes without so much as looking up. A deep breath, a whispered:

“I don’t believe that book is one I enjoy” in a thinly veiled attempt to rein things back, and keep some of his dignity intact. Sam’s eyes looked at Castiel imploringly, Castiel swore that he could hear the questions ricocheting through Sam’s mind without so much as attempting to. A silent understanding befell the two. 

After several long moments of silence on Sam’s part he moved closer, pushing off Castiel’s trench coat with his large hands, taking a moment to press against the tense muscles of his shoulders before slipping it off. Castiel took the hint, toeing his shoes off. 

“Let’s lay down instead” he suggested; the thing about Sam and Castiel was that they didn’t need to speak to know what the other needed. They understood each other without the use of words, a silent understanding easily befalling the two. Jack’s name was heavy in the air, only amplified by a panicked grief that could only be caused by pretending things weren’t broken until the last piece of hope was shattered leaving Castiel in waves.

“Take a deep breath”

“I don’t require oxygen”

A fond, soft smile that Castiel found Sam rarely gave anyone else lit up his face for only a moment despite the concern. Castiel forced in a deep, but unsteady breath to appease Sam, before letting it out in a slow exhale. 

“Again” Sam prompted, moving from where he was, and gently guiding Castiel to lay down beside him, one large hand sprawled across Castiel’s chest, and the other linked around the Angel’s midsection. 

He found that Sam was right, focusing on the rise and fall of Sam’s chest against his back did help. The up and down was grounding, a reminder that Sam was alive. That he hadn’t lost everyone. That he was still on earth, and this wasn’t all just a nightmare he was having while alone in the empty. 

“I miss him”

“I know”

“He was my son”

“You were a good father”

“Then why have I failed him so terribly?” 

The silence that followed was heavy, terrible in its own right. Castiel heard Sam murmur something that was meant to be reassuring, but only sounded distorted to his ears. 

“Go to sleep, Sam” A soft whisper, a plea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! It would mean a lot of you left comments/kudos below!!


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